


send me your location (let's ride the vibrations)

by foollsgold



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blowjobs, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Frottage, M/M, Spooning, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 09:27:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12033024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foollsgold/pseuds/foollsgold
Summary: Harry sighs happily as he falls silent, glancing across the street to watch pedestrians come and go. They fly past, consumed with their own lives, either coming home from work late or walking their dogs. There's a couple hovering in the alley, making out shamelessly in the middle of the afternoon. It makes Louis feel nauseous."That's so cute." Harry comments. His eyes are sparkling in the way they do when he's being earnest, and there isn't a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Wouldn't it be nice to be able to do that with someone?"Louis' heartbeat seems to pick up at that, refusing to settle down even after a moment has passed. He frowns down at his paper bag, still full with food, placing it back up on the dashboard with sweaty hands."Yeah," He breathes out, feeling his chest tighten. "Would be nice."orHarry gives Louis head with no strings attached. They fall in love.





	send me your location (let's ride the vibrations)

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first fic and it's quite short so it probably isn't the best, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

Louis leans back against his shitty car, fag dangling from the corner of his mouth as he stares up at the night sky. It's quiet in the countryside, the only sounds being the hum of the engine, and the rustle of fidgeting next to him. The stars become blurred when he exhales, breathing out smoke that twirls in the air before it dissipates completely. He brings the cigarette to his lips again, sucking on the end until his lungs are full. 

"Bad habit, smoking." Harry comments from his side. Louis rolls his eyes, because he can practically hear the smirk in Harry's voice. 

"Oh, shut up." He replies plainly, but there's no malice behind his tone, only a mild amount of snark. 

He tilts his head to look at Harry, who's laid on the hood of the car peacefully. The younger boy offers one of his typical shit-eating grins, and even though he's annoying, he's so pretty that Louis decides _not_ to elbow him in the ribs. He's lucky there, given Louis' hot temper and usual tendency for violence. Instead, Louis just drops his fag and rolls onto his side to nip playfully at an exposed strip of Harry's neck. Harry yelps, swatting Louis away with his large hands, grumbling something indistinct, but Louis knows how much Harry secretly loves it when he does that. 

 

He isn't exactly sure when their thing started. They've always flirted, him and Harry, but he'd just written it off as banter and left it at that, because they were friends and that's what had mattered most to him. It was obvious that there was something there, though, from the comments Louis would throw in Harry's direction whenever he got dressed up, or the look Harry would shoot Louis whenever he wore _those_ jeans. 

It was at the first party of the summer that Harry had made his move-- clumsily dragging Louis into the coat cupboard and asking politely to suck his dick. Louis wasn't going to tell him no, obviously, and so that was that. From then onwards it's developed into the thing that's basically just orgasms with no strings attached.

Louis is having a great summer. He's not sure if it's because of the sun, his friends, or the near-constant orgasms, but he doesn't think he's ever been happier. Either way, he's drifting through the holidays in a state of bliss that he doesn't think he ever wants to end. 

"What're you smiling about?" Harry asks, shifting to tuck his head into the crook of Louis' neck. Louis' hand comes up to play with his hair instinctively. 

"'M just having a good time." 

Harry looks up with sparkling eyes. He hums in feign disbelief, but Louis can see the flush creeping up his cheeks and the amused little tilt playing at his lips. 

"'Cause you know you're gonna get head later?" He teases. 

Louis tugs on his curls hard enough to elicit a squeak from him. " _No,_ you prat. I actually enjoy being around you, believe it or not." 

"Aw," Harry coos, biting down around a smile. "That's sweet." 

Louis grins in response. "You mentioned head, though?"

Harry rolls his eyes and moves to climb on top of Louis, beginning to work on the button of his jeans. Louis crosses his arms behind his head, staring up at the sky as Harry pulls his zipper down using his teeth. 

He really is happy. 

\---

"How was last night with your boyfriend?" Liam asks over a game of FIFA the next day, attempting to casually slip it into the conversation. 

Louis huffs. 

" _Not_ my boyfriend." He says pointedly, but his sarky demeanour melts away when he remembers Harry blowing him under the stars, then tripping and smashing a lamp as he snuck in through his back window. "Nice, though. It was actually kind of romantic." 

"Sex and romance are the two main components of a relationship, Louis." Liam points out matter-of-factly as he slides the ball into the back of the net. 

Louis huffs again. Sure, him and Harry like to do nice things as a prelude to their activities, things that could probably be classed as dates in some circumstances. And, okay, they're exclusive to each other in way that's unspoken, but. They aren't boyfriends. Things are fine as they are, kept simple by the three rules they'd agreed on when they first decided to mess around together. 

Firstly, they don't kiss, because that's a little too intimate. Harry breaks this rule from time to time-- Louis knows that he just gets carried away, becomes possessed by some kind of unstoppable sex drive and forgets where he is, what's allowed, but Louis doesn't mind. 

They still cuddle so it doesn't feel impersonal, because they are friends, after all. The love Harry feels for others is always evident, in his expressions and behind his eyes, but Louis knows that he has to try a little harder to show he cares, so makes sure to convey it in small touches and long hugs. 

Most importantly, they're supposed to maintain a regular friendship outside of their sex. They try, but even friendly games of footie and casual movie nights end up with someone getting off. It's not like either of them are complaining, but they're still trying. That's all that matters. 

"He's _not_ my boyfriend!" Louis says again, with more emphasis this time. Liam just shrugs next to him. 

Louis is far too stubborn to admit to the low-key romantic feelings he has towards Harry. He's managed to convince himself that they're just a temporary side effect of being in a friendship with benefits, that they'll pass eventually, even if it has been a month already and they haven't so much as faded, let alone disappeared. 

But it's fine. Liam is wrong, and that's the end of it. 

\---

The next time Louis sees Harry is when they meet to catch up, and Louis ends up giving Harry a quick handjob in the backseat of his car. Harry's curled up on Louis' lap, resting there as he comes down from his orgasm, when he leans back enough to look Louis in the eye. His skin is pale with flecks of red tinting his cheeks, and his eyes are wide with dark pupils. He looks like a fallen angel, beautiful yet sinful, and it makes Louis want to cry sometimes, how attractive he is. 

" _Louis,_ " Harry says, dragging the word out to ensure he has Louis' attention. He shifts uncomfortably so that Louis has to hold onto the small of his back to keep him held upright in his awkward position. "What are we?" 

Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment, based on the conviction behind Harry's throaty voice, and chooses to answer as honestly as he can. 

"We're friends." He answers, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Harry sighs. 

"I know, but." He cuts himself off, opting to gesture between the two of them and then down to his cock. "Friends don't get each other off, usually." 

Louis adjusts his gaze to stare at where his palms are placed on the curve of Harry's waist, stabilising him. He can practically feel Harry's warmth radiating up his arms and into his chest. It feels like home. He clears his throat as he looks up at Harry's face again, where his eyebrows are furrowed in a thoughtful expression. 

"We're friends with benefits then, I suppose." 

Harry takes his bottom lip between his teeth. "I don't like that. Can we call it something else?" 

Louis cocks an eyebrow at the mischievous glint in Harry's eyes. He shrugs casually, using his thumb to stroke small circles into the soft flesh of Harry's hip as he hums in thought. He really is ridiculous, Louis thinks, but he wouldn't have it any other way. 

"Cock friends." Harry announces suddenly, punctuated by a snap of his fingers. 

"You're stupid." Louis deadpans, but he can't help the grin that sneaks its way onto his face when Harry giggles and says, 

"Fuck buddies, then?" 

Louis agrees to call himself Harry's 'fuck buddy' eventually, because it sort of fits. Their friendship has always come naturally and hasn't ever felt awkward or forced. It's just the way they are, and everyone around them is used to it, really. 

They were already kind of inseparable in school, but it's gotten worse since the thing started, the subtle touches and sideways glances that they don't engage in with anyone else. Sometimes Louis wonders whether people do think that they're boyfriends, seeing the way that they look at each other or the instinctive way that they touch.  
Liam certainly does. 

Harry interrupts Louis from his thoughts with a flick on the side of his ear. 

"Hey," He says softly, keeping his voice low to match the quiet atmosphere that's developed between them. "I'm starving, d'you wanna get something to eat?" 

 

They end up lounged across the front of the car with takeaway bags and drinks balanced along the dashboard. Harry always picks where they get food, but Louis doesn't mind, as long as Harry is happy. Even if they do end up having fast food once a week. 

Harry's halfway through a greasy looking meal, waving his burger around animatedly as he tells a story about his sister, and Louis watches on with a fond smile. Normally, Louis would tell him to hurry up and eat his food before it gets cold, that if he ate as much as he talked he'd be finished by now, but the way his eyes are lighting up is enough to keep Louis' mouth shut. 

Harry sighs happily as he falls silent, glancing across the street to watch pedestrians come and go. They fly past, consumed with their own lives, either coming home from work late or walking their dogs. There's a couple hovering in the alley, making out shamelessly in the middle of the afternoon. It makes Louis feel nauseous. 

"That's so cute." Harry comments. His eyes are sparkling in the way they do when he's being earnest, and there isn't a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Wouldn't it be nice to be able to do that with someone?" 

Louis' heartbeat seems to pick up at that, refusing to settle down even after a moment has passed. He frowns down at his paper bag, still full with food, placing it back up on the dashboard with sweaty hands. 

"Yeah," He breathes out, feeling his chest tighten. "Would be nice."

He hadn't realised Harry was considering a relationship outside of their arrangement. Sure, they don't kiss like that, but Harry has no trouble doing just about everything else with his mouth, and he definitely enjoys it. Although thinking about it, it does make sense, given that Louis is the one constantly insisting that they aren't in a relationship. He doesn't really have a right to complain, but it's not like that's ever stopped him before. 

\---

Louis is laid in bed staring at the David Beckham poster on his ceiling when his phone vibrates. He fumbles for it in the dark, squinting at the screen to see the time. It's only 7pm, but his drawn curtains mean he's sat in the pitch black, moping about missing Harry and in particular, Harry's dick. 

He's been sulking all week about what Harry said in the car about wanting to kiss someone else so he's being blunt in his text replies, too invested to just _ignore_ Harry, and has refused a total of two blowjob offers, which is two too many for him. 

He's dedicated to the cause. 

There's one missed call on his screen, so he swipes and presses the receiver to his ear. The line clicks when the culprit on the other end picks up. 

"What?" He demands groggily, annoyed having been disturbed from his previous moping. 

"You won't believe this." Harry chirps from the other end, unfazed by Louis' rude greeting. "My mum's gone away to some spa retreat with Gems for the weekend!" 

"And?" 

Louis settles for a sarcastic answer, but he can barely ignore the fluttering of butterflies in the pit of his stomach upon hearing the boy's voice. He'd half expected to find his mum or Liam on the other end, but he's not surprised that Harry is calling again. If there's one thing Louis has found, it's that it's impossible to stay annoyed at Harry for too long, thanks to his charm. 

Once, he'd gotten Louis off right in the middle of his living room knowing full well that Liam was due round to collect his copy of FIFA. Needless to say, they were caught in the act, Harry had thought it was fucking hilarious, and Louis had been pissed for a grand total of fifteen minutes before he'd caved, and they'd ended up cuddling for about an hour afterwards. It's impossible to win with him. 

Harry gasps in offence. "It means I've got the house to myself! Are you coming over?" 

Louis groans in mock annoyance. He likes to think he does well in masking his excitement whenever Harry asks him to do something, but he's probably just an open book. He completely forgets he's supposed to be annoyed upon the concept of spending the night at Harry's, so kicks off his covers, rolling over to press his face into the bed. 

"I'll be ten minutes." He says, voice muffled his pillows. He can practically hear Harry's answering smile across the line. 

\---

Louis hasn't even finished knocking on the door when Harry answers, dragging him over the threshold by his arm. He lets out a surprised breath of laughter as he comes crashing into Harry's chest, letting his arms come around the boy's waist on instinct. 

He takes a second to breathe in the way Harry smells, like vanilla and washing powder, a combination that's almost heavenly. His skin is damp, proving that he's showered for the occasion, and he's all warm and tucked up in a yellow jumper, sleeves pulled over his hands to form sweater paws as he rubs circles on Louis' back. 

"You okay?" Louis asks, bemused, tilting his head back to meet their eyes. He feels at home. 

"Just excited to see you." Harry confesses sheepishly. "Feels like we haven't done this in ages."

"It's only been a week." Louis argues, although he feels a twinge of guilt at the fact that he's been too busy sulking to answer any booty calls. Harry just shrugs and smiles. 

They stand like that for a while, locked in each other's embraces and refusing to break eye contact, but the atmosphere between them dissolves pretty quickly when Harry starts tugging at Louis' arm again, this time dragging him up the stairs. He almost trips over the landing but is kept upright by Harry's strong grip, leading him all the way into the bedroom at the end of the hall. 

 

Harry's room is nothing special, just a bed shoved against the wall, a desk crammed into the corner. Louis' been in here before, although not for a while, because he doesn't trust Harry to keep his hands to himself. He still tries not to think about that one disastrous time that Harry's mum had come home whilst they were getting each other off, and Harry had persuaded him to jump out of the window. He still has a scar from the rosebush. 

Right now they're without the worry of being caught, though, so Harry is making the most of it. He pushes Louis down onto the bed, clambering into his lap in a way that's all but graceful, and Louis almost giggles but is cut off when Harry goes straight for his neck, forcing his chin up using the top of his head. 

He kisses Louis' skin relentlessly, grazing his teeth over the areas hard enough to leave bruises. Louis grabs at Harry's thick thigh, digging his nails into the skin to keep himself calm, but Harry just rocks forward in his lap, whimpering into the skin below his ear. 

" _Jesus,_ Harry." Louis chokes out, fumbling for Harry's jumper. He wraps his fingers around the hem when he finds it, tugging upwards on the fabric roughly. "Off, get this off." 

Harry yanks it over his head and Louis lets his eyes roam over Harry's long torso, all milky skin and soft flesh around his tummy with faded purple splotches from when Louis has been there before. Louis loves seeing what he's left behind-- hickeys and nail marks all over Harry's body, knowing that he's the only one that gets to see Harry all undressed and unraveled like this. 

He lays down and pulls Harry on top of him, needing more friction between them. Harry instantly reattaches to his throat, always so eager to please, so selfless. He's so good that sometimes it leaves Louis in awe, wondering if he might actually be an angel. 

Louis forces his hands into Harry's jeans, to find nothing but skin underneath. Harry hadn't even put any underwear on in anticipation for Louis' arrival, and Louis could laugh at that, but Harry is moaning against Louis' skin and grinding down onto his crotch at the feeling of hands on his arse. 

He's letting out little gasps as he moves, his kisses on Louis' jaw becoming sloppy as he becomes more undone. And Louis wants to see, get a look at the state he's worked himself into, so puts his chin down, uses his leverage on Harry's bum to pull him forward. He lifts his head up to look at Louis, and. He looks so far gone, skin sweaty and eyes glassed over, emitting an aura of desperation and sex. 

Louis cranes his neck to press their foreheads together, needing to be closer. Their mouths are open, slotted together, and Louis can feel each one of Harry's breaths, feel every noise he makes vibrate in the back of his throat. They don't kiss but somehow this feels better, just feeling every inch of each other, watching each other go over the edge. 

"So pretty." Louis coos, and he sounds more wrecked than he could've imagined, voice throaty and embarrassingly high pitched. "You're so good, H." 

Harry whimpers. He bucks his hips forward once more and comes, eyebrows drawn together and head thrown back. It doesn't take long for Louis to follow. 

Harry's lips are curved upwards into a satisfied smile as he rolls over to face Louis, still breathing heavy, letting a hand come up to swipe his thumb over Louis' cheekbone. Louis flushes red. He feels overwhelmed, hazy as he comes down, with butterflies fluttering around in the pit of his stomach. 

"I missed you." Harry whispers. Louis can't think of an appropriate response, struggling with the sentiment, so settles on,

"Go clean yourself up." 

Harry complies, pressing a kiss into Louis' sweaty hair before rolling off of the bed and heading for the bathroom. Louis watches him fondly as he goes, admiring the way his arse looks in his skinny jeans, the soft skin that comes up over the waistband. He's missed Harry, too. 

\---

Louis wakes up to sunshine pouring in through a gap in the curtains and the unfamiliar brightness of yellow walls. He's groggy and disoriented and it takes him a second to realise he's tangled in a mess of limbs, but he soon remembers the events of the previous night and allows himself to settle back down into the bed. 

Louis loves being the big spoon. One arm is draped over Harry, the other trapped underneath him, holding him close. He's snoring, little sniffs that remind Louis of the noise kittens make in their sleep, and he's got both his legs pulled to his chest, arms hugging his knees, making him look ridiculously innocent in the morning light. 

Harry must feel the heat radiating in through the window too, because he wakes not long after Louis does, stretching out his limbs and twisting to face the older boy with bright eyes and hooded eyelids. He opts to skip any _'good morning's_ or _'how are you's_ , instead just smiles up at Louis lazily, flashing his dimple. It's stupidly charming. 

Louis drags a hand up to card through Harry's messy hair, watching as his eyes fall shut and he nuzzles into Louis' chest. Despite his height advantage, Harry loves letting Louis baby him, so much that he's always curling up into Louis in some way. 

"You want breakfast?" He asks eventually. He gets up to make his way to the kitchen before he receives an answer, only stopping to crack his joints before he saunters off down the stairs. Louis lets himself have another five minutes in bed before he follows. 

Harry looks over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps, smiling when he sees Louis tiptoeing into the kitchen, trying not to let his feet touch the cold tile. His expression is fond, enamoured, and it makes something warm blossom in the pit of Louis' stomach knowing that it's directed at him. 

They sit at the dining table, eating pancakes with their feet locked together, giggling like idiots every time they make eye contact. It feels stupidly domestic-- having breakfast in the kitchen after spending the night together, like something out of a romantic comedy. It makes Louis so happy that he could burst and has him biting down on a smile so wide that it hurts his cheeks. 

\---

After that weekend, they're practically inseparable. They spend every waking moment together, cuddling, feeding each other junk food, and watching whatever crappy series Harry's _Netflix_ account recommends. It's a weird change from their usual activities, but Louis isn't complaining. Everything they do feels a lot more _couple-y_ these days. Even the head Louis receives is more romantic, with Harry peppering him with compliments as he gets him off. It's wonderful. 

And Louis knows he isn't doing much to combat his feelings for Harry, but things are still casual. Their thing can't be fucked up if it's not official, Louis decides, so he remains unbothered every time his heart swells with affection for the younger boy. It's difficult to avoid when Harry is just so lovely, all bright eyes and red lips and messy hair, an unstoppable force that brings happiness wherever he goes. 

It'd be pretty fucking impossible not to fall for Harry, Louis thinks, so he lets himself get away with it. 

 

On the rare occasion that he gets a free house, he invites Harry round to help bake cupcakes for the twins. It's a cute idea initially, but Harry ends up doing most of the work whilst Louis sits and admires him-- hair frosted with flour, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. He should look ridiculous, but he just looks so pretty that it's unfair. 

His lips curve into a bashful smile when he feels Louis' eyes on him, and Louis pokes at his dimple, watching it flirt to life underneath his fingertip. The way Harry wrinkles up his nose and shies away from the touch is endearing. Even with his bottom lip pushed out and his arms folded over his chest, he's is a ray of sunshine in the cold kitchen, and it has Louis leaning to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, wiping the pout off of his face. 

Once the cookies are in the oven Harry sets out to eat the leftover cookie-mixture, scooping it onto his index finger and sucking it off, hollowing his cheeks and refusing to break eye contact with Louis. They end up christening Louis' bed while the biscuits cook, and peck goodbye at the door when it's time for Harry to leave. 

 

They spend the rest of the evening talking, Louis laid on his side with his phone pressed between his ear and the pillow so he doesn't have to hold it. He recites how his sisters had questioned his sudden baking skills, and Harry laughs along, his cackle no less adorable over the phone. 

Their conversation flows aimlessly, lasting until early in the morning when they're both whispering and giggling into cupped hands so as to not wake any of their family members. They haven't done this since they were sixteen, when they were just getting to know each other, and it feels oddly nostalgic. The call finally hits a lull at around 3am, when Harry yawns obnoxiously into the receiver, and Louis tells him to go to sleep. 

He's too tired to be stubborn so agrees, mumbling an almost unintelligible goodnight before he hangs up and Louis is left staring at his caller ID, a photo of him poking his tongue out as he lays upside down on the grass, and the name **H❤️** flashing in the dark. 

\---

The end of the summer rolls around ridiculously quick and before Louis knows it, August is coming to a close. He's scrabbling to make plans with Harry, not knowing what will happen to their arrangement once the holidays come to an end. They've never fully discussed what they'll do come September, and there's doubt nagging at the back of Louis' mind, telling him that Harry will want something more with someone else once the school year picks up again. 

Louis tries to spend as much time with him as possible. They go out for food, curl up under the trees at the park, making up stories about people as they walk past, and watch trashy reality tv until they can't stand it anymore. Louis thinks that these might genuinely be the happiest few weeks of his life, and he almost forgets that they're on limited time. 

On the last Saturday before school starts again, he drives Harry down to the lake at the edge of the city. The remnants of the summer mean the temperature is still high and it's still light out in the late evening, so they camp out by the bank until the sun goes down, chatting and laying together on the grass. Harry's got his thigh draped over Louis, palms pressed flat against Louis' chest and head buried into the crook of Louis' neck when he says, 

"It's weird how summer is basically over. I almost don't want it to end." 

Louis hums in agreement. _Half_ agreement, really, because there's no 'almost' in the way he feels.

Harry pecks his jaw lazily, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the skin. Louis squeezes the flesh on his thigh in a comforting gesture. The sun has almost set, basking them in a warm, orangey glow that only serves to make Harry look twice as glittery and angelic as he normally does. It's relaxing, peaceful with just the two of them, and Louis thinks he's just about to fall asleep when Harry starts nipping at his earlobe. 

"Yeah." He says groggily, rolling over so that Harry is forced to dislodge his leg from its position around Louis' hip. He grins nonetheless, visibly excited at whatever he's thinking about. 

"We should go swimming." 

Louis stares back at him incredulously. "We didn't bring swimming costumes." 

Harry shrugs in a way that's meant to feign casualness, but his grin gives him away, so wide that his dimple pops. His face turns a pleasant shade of pink, and. Louis finally gathers that Harry wants to go skinny-dipping. He's so slow sometimes that he almost can't believe himself, and he barely has time to react before Harry is clambering up onto his feet, straightening himself out and starting to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. 

He moves onto his jeans, peeling them down his thighs until they're pooling at his ankles. And then he's naked, stark in the darkness where the sun has set, all soft curves and pale skin, illuminated by the moonlight. He's so beautiful that Louis aches with it. 

 

By the time Louis joins him in the water, he's still buzzing with anticipation. He ducks under, resurfacing and throwing his head back to spit a jet of water into the air like a statue. It should be dumb, but he just looks like an angel, with his wet hair stuck to his forehead and water droplets stuck to his eyelashes, shining under the moon. 

Louis needs to touch, so opens up his arms for Harry to swim into. Harry curls into him naturally. It's stupidly romantic, the way Harry slots his head into the crook of Louis' neck, and it makes Louis heart stutter in his chest because he's so gone for this boy that he can't cope. 

Harry is hot, chest radiating a warmth that settles in Louis' bones, and Louis is spontaneously combusting at the contact, itching to touch. It feels like his body goes into autopilot when he grabs a handful of Harry's hair to pull his head back and attaches his lips to the base of Harry's jugular. A whine vibrates in the back Harry's throat as Louis kisses his way up from there, open-mouthed along his jawline, one on his chin, and then hesitating at his mouth. 

Louis thinks briefly of their rules. If he breaks them now, he isn't sure what it'll mean later, knowing that at the end of the weekend their summer is over and it's back to reality. He doesn't think he can go without Harry after having him alone for so long, but he needs him now, so much that his hands are trembling where they're locked in Harry's curls. 

He leans forward to press their lips together, only for a second to test the waters. It's enough to light a spark in his veins, and when he pulls back and Harry is staring down at him desperately, he doesn't think he can contain it any longer. 

He kisses Harry again, so hard this time that it sets off fireworks in the pit of his stomach. It shouldn't feel so foreign considering Harry's worked his mouth just about everywhere else on Louis' body, but this feels different, special. Harry's holding on like his life depends on it, arms around Louis' neck and legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him held in place. 

And Louis thinks this is probably all he's ever wanted. There's something intimate between them that he's never experienced before, a feeling that travels through his limbs and settles in his gut, leaving him so content that he could cry. 

Harry pulls away so their foreheads are pressed together, and Louis can feel it every time he exhales, can practically hear his rapid heartbeat from inside his chest. 

"Do you like me?" Harry asks abruptly, so quiet that Louis almost misses it. Louis can't help it when he snorts obnoxiously at the question. 

"'Course I like you, Harry." 

Harry bites at his bottom lip. "Yeah, but, do you only like me 'cause I get you off?" 

Louis pauses, leaning backwards so he can look at Harry without going cross-eyed. The boy is being completely earnest, eyes filled with conviction, and Louis almost can't believe that Harry could ever like think that. He likes Harry, so much that it's been keeping him up at night. He doesn't think he's ever experienced this before-- feeling in such awe at someone's presence, wanting to be with them every second of the day, never wanting to go without them. He doesn't really know how to put it into words, though, but he tries to be as honest as he can. 

"I like you because you make me happy." He answers simply, then tacks on, "Like, stupidly happy. Butterflies-in-my-tummy type happy." 

Harry's sighs in relief at the confession. He twirls a strand of Louis' hair around his finger where his hand is resting at the base of Louis' neck, hesitating before he replies, 

"I like you too. Like, _really_ like you. I know that we said no strings attached, and I tried not to fall for you, I did, but I–"

Louis cuts off Harry's rambling by a pressing a finger over his mouth. It could probably be considered rude, in any other circumstance, but Harry visibly relaxes at the touch, looking up at Louis hopefully. 

"I'm okay with strings." Louis says, admiring how Harry's face colours and his dimple flirts to life in his cheek at the words. "I want strings," Louis drops drops his voice to a whisper. "If that's what you want." 

"I want strings." Harry says bashfully, unable to contain the joy that's radiating out of him. Louis can't believe how lucky he is. 

"Good." Louis grins back. "You'll still give me head, though?" 

Harry laughs so loudly that it echoes off of the lake until they're kissing again, and he's giggling into Louis' mouth, tugging at the back of his neck to hold him close, and Louis can feel the elevated beat of his pulse through his chest. 

He really is happy.


End file.
